


paying it back

by toxica939



Series: take me down [2]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Anal Sex, Felching, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 17:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10903653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxica939/pseuds/toxica939
Summary: In the fifteen minutes it takes Aaron to shower and come downstairs again, in nothing but thin cotton shorts and scrubbed clean skin, hair drying soft and fluffy against his forehead, Robert has just about gotten control of himself.Aaron padding across the living room in bare feet, stretching his shoulders out and scratching absently at his chest undoes him again completely.ORmore rimming fic, ta da!





	paying it back

**Author's Note:**

> a sequel of sorts to "summer skin" because ryan hawley licked his lips in public yesterday so aaron needed to get rimmed. for reasons.

It's Saturday afternoon. Aaron had disappeared at first light, pulling on trainers and tucking a football under his arm. He'd said something about cheering Adam up when he'd leant down to kiss Robert's head but Robert hadn't been paying attention, he'd been too busy rolling into Aaron's warm spot and starfishing across the bed. Saturday mornings are for lie ins, not football and moving.

Robert had gotten up late, made himself a large pot of fancy coffee, the expensive stuff Aaron's rolls his eyes at, and ate a large bowl of fruit-filled porridge without anyone to take the piss out of him.

He took a walk out to buy a paper. Read it at the kitchen table. Did half the crossword before giving up.

Liv hadn't emerged from the pit she calls a bedroom until early afternoon and Robert had allowed himself to be liberated of forty quid so she'd go into town with Gabby and leave him to his lazy day in peace.

He spent a couple of hours watching Pitch Black for the ninetieth time and has just dragged himself to the kitchen for a biscuit when Aaron comes home, clattering through the door like a fucking bull as usual. Robert watches him drop the football he's still carrying, watches it roll over to the TV stand, then glances up and wishes he's spent that time watching Aaron instead.

Aaron's flushed, hair in disarray. He's wearing a thin, long sleeve t shirt and the dark material is plastered to his chest with sweat, like he's actually spent the whole day running around with Adam like a child.

Robert has to curl his hands around the counter top behind him for balance. To keep from reaching out.

He can fucking _smell_ him. Copper and grass, that musky, dark smell that comes from pushing himself too far. He has to shake his head to clear it. _Jesus_.

Aaron is oblivious, thank god. He comes over to fill a glass with water, swigs it over the sink like an animal, stops by to give Robert a cold, wet kiss on his way back to the stairs.

“I've got time for shower, yeah?” he asks, nodding at the chopping board on the side. Robert had forgotten that was even there. Is definitely not planning on making tea any time soon.

He nods wordlessly, feels dizzy.

In the fifteen minutes it takes Aaron to shower and come downstairs again, in nothing but thin cotton shorts and scrubbed clean skin, hair drying soft and fluffy against his forehead, Robert has just about gotten control of himself.

Aaron padding across the living room in bare feet, stretching his shoulders out and scratching absently at his chest undoes him again completely and Robert's moving through the kitchen, around the sofa before the urge to do so really registers.

Aaron blinks in surprise when Robert catches him around the waist, reels him in to cuddle close. Aaron's hands skid up to Robert's shoulders, fingers creasing material. Robert has to kiss him, wouldn't even know how to do anything else.

Robert deepens the kiss too quickly, hands urgent on Aaron's back, doesn't give him time to catch up.

Aaron's panting when he pulls back. “What's got into you?”

Robert hides a grin in Aaron's neck, inhales the shower gel Aaron's still stealing, sinks his teeth into the muscle there.

“You,” he says, pulse thrumming. “Get naked.”

Aaron laughs, lets himself be kissed, manhandled over to the sofa.

He's only wearing shorts, so in the end Robert takes care of them himself, slides his hands under the elastic waist, palms smoothing over that perfect arse, and shoves them down. Kicks free of his own jeans while he's at it.

He gives Aaron another kiss, wet flash of tongue, and then turns him around bodily, pushes him onto the sofa on his knees. Aaron's still laughing over his shoulder, going along with it because he's good like that when he knows he's about to get off.

Robert feels jittery, wired. He's had such a good day and all he wants now is Aaron. He's going to have him.

Aaron jerks when Robert drops to his knees. “What?”

Robert can't hold back a smile, doesn't have to because Aaron can't see him down here.

Aaron has got a bloody nice face, that is one of the great truths of Robert's life. But his arse? His arse is a work of art.

Robert puts his hands there, one on each cheek and digs his fingers in, an imitation of a massage that works well enough to make Aaron grunt.

He leans in, rubs his cheek against the back of Aaron's thigh, shapes his words into the skin there. “I'm going to make you come like this,” he tells Aaron, brave now he's so close to getting what he wants. “And then I'm going to fuck you until you're hard again. And then I'm going to do it again.”

He hears Aaron choke. Aaron hates it when Robert says things like that, goes red faced and shy. But it's easy like this, Robert thumbing at the crack of his arse, mouth right there, Aaron hanging over the back of the sofa, probably making a face at the floor.

Robert licks his thumb, rubs Aaron's hole slippery. It twitches, which he knows makes Aaron feel funny so he does it again, until the muscle relaxes and he hears Aaron blow out a short breath.

“Robert,” he says, a warning.

Robert quiets him with a press of that thumb, eases the tip inside, twists it a little to let Aaron feels the pull and drag.

Aaron loses a, “ _Fuck_ ,” on a gentle moan and Robert knows he's got him. This is definitely happening.

He licks around his thumb for a while, holds Aaron open around the thick knuckle there before easing it free so he can get his mouth on him properly.

Robert gets both thumbs in the crease, spreads Aaron for his tongue. Licks up from his balls to his hole a few times, long enough for Aaron to start getting fidgety, knees shifting on the sofa cushions.

He works the flat of his tongue over the tight muscle for long moments, gets everything wet and slick, Aaron's hips dropping to move back against the feeling.

He can hear Aaron sighing, needy little pants and stuttering hips, Robert's name whenever he teases with pushing his tongue inside.

Robert's mouth feels hot, tongue aching and face messy, but it's worth it. Worth it when Aaron starts reach for himself.

Robert pulls back, lays a stinging bite to Aaron's left cheek. “Don't even think about it,” he says.

He sees Aaron's hand move back, fist in the cushion beside his knee. “Robert, I can't,” he sounds wrung out, half way to too far gone but Robert knows him better than that.

“You can,” he tells him, lets his tongue flicker out again to remind Aaron how good it feels. Has to fist his own dick through his underwear a couple of times, to take the edge off.

Aaron whines, back dipping, arse pushed out.

Robert redoubles his efforts, firms up his tongue as best he can and fucks it against that tight ring of muscle, uses his lips and spit; makes everything hotter, wetter.

He hears that hitch in Aaron's voice. The tell tale waver that means he's getting there, and pulls away to blow gently over his hole, breath cold and teasing over wet skin.

Aaron cries out, body shaking, thighs flexing.

Robert dives back in, tongue firm. Repeats the process a couple of times until Aaron's fucking losing it, swearing and shivering, foot jerking against Robert's shoulder.

He goes lax right before he comes, like he can't help himself, just gives himself over to it. It's fast and loud, the kind of orgasm that sets your teeth on edge.

Robert touches at his lips while Aaron comes down, they feel puffy, used.

He can't ignore his own dick anymore, it's got it's own fucking heartbeat. And he did make Aaron a promise.

Robert gets to his feet, rubbing a hand up Aaron's clammy back, scrubs it right up into his hair.

“You good?”

Aaron pants for a while longer, doesn't move away when Robert presses in between his legs again, doesn't move much at all.

“Do it,” Aaron says, eventually, nodding quickly. His voice is shot and he's begging really, but Robert would never call him on it. Definitely not when he needs it this bad as well.

He shoves his underwear down, kicks them away.

It's not ideal, doing this without lube. But it wouldn't be the first time and Aaron's about as relaxed as he's ever going to get, licked wet and open, hole fluttering against the head of Robert's dick as he rocks it against him.

Robert spits in his own palm, uses it to slick his dick as much as he can, has to curl his fingers tight around the base for a second to stave off a wave of _want_. This isn't going to take long.

He anchors himself with a hand on Aaron's hip, fingers slip sliding on sweaty skin, and pushes himself inside with slow, jerky rocks of his hips.

Aaron is burning up from the inside, hot and wet and everything in Robert wants to watch, wants to see himself splitting Aaron open, watch Aaron's back ripple as he moans, but he can't stand it, eyes screwing shut against the sensation. It's too good after waiting so long.

Aaron fumbles a hands back to cover Roberts, muttering, “Yeah, _yes_ , come on, come on.”

Robert lets him link their fingers together, hangs on tight until he's fully seated, as deep inside Aaron as he can get. Aaron stretches forward, gripping the back of the sofa, muscles in his arms and across his shoulders cording as he shudders into it.

Robert can feel the tight grip he's got on his control starting to slip. Aaron fucking _ruins_ him.

He smooths a hand up Aaron's flank, gentling him, says, “Easy, come on,” and waits for Aaron to settle.

It takes a couple of moments for Aaron to relax, head dropping, knees slipping wider on the sofa cushions so he can grind back.

That's it. Robert tightens his grip on Aaron's hip, runs his other hand up to get a hold on Aaron's shoulder, bends his knees and puts his back into it.

No finesse, just long, deep thrusts. Falls into a rhythm that makes his spine liquify.

Aaron's moaning, fist in his mouth where he's hanging over the back of the sofa now, body jolting with every hitch of Robert's hips. Robert sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, keeps going, fucks Aaron past moaning, into whines and whimpers; wounded and blissed out and Robert can tell when Aaron starts to get hard again, can feel it in the way Aaron moves with him, starts to chase his own pleasure instead of just taking it.

There's sweat in his eyes, running down the crease of his arse. The air feels humid; warm and still, filled with Aaron's soft breaths and the slap of skin on skin. Robert can't fucking think straight.

He thrusts harder, feels it building, lets his body take over. He comes hard, ripped out of him and has to brace a hand between Aaron's shoulder blades to keep himself upright. His hips shudder through it, Aaron still rocking back against him, wanting more.

Robert pulls out slowly, Aaron grumbling, not happy about being empty and still on edge. Robert can see come sliding down over Aaron's balls, watches Aaron twitch into it, head tossing like everything's so sensitive a light breeze would make him shiver.

“Okay?” Robert asks, checking in.

Aaron nods into the sofa back, sounds wrecked. “Yeah. Just. I'm still.”

He can't seem to follow a thread but Robert gets it. He's still worked up, nerves singing. He loves Aaron like this, fidgety and on the edge of nothing.

Aaron sobs softly when Roberts sinks to his knees again, like he knows what's coming and just the thought of it is too much. There's no way Aaron would let him get away with this without comment if he wasn't so far gone and there's no way Robert isn't going to take full advantage of his mouthy little shit of a husband reduced to huffs and whimpers.

He noses in close, tongue flickering across the underside of Aaron's balls, tastes salt and himself, gets to work licking Aaron clean.

Aaron jerks like he's been shot when Robert works his way back up to his hole. He's probably a little sore, oversensitive, so Robert laps at him gently, soft presses of tongue collecting bitter salt and dragging noises from Aaron's throat.

Robert gets his thumbs in there again, holds Aaron open and eats at him until Aaron can't take it anymore, has to bring a hand down to pull himself off. This time, Robert lets him.

Aaron comes on a slow boil, shivering through it like it hurts in all the best ways. Even Robert's dick is making a valiant attempt to chub up again, Aaron's suffers through it so perfectly.

He sags back on to his arse, body aching, scrubs his chin clean. He's filthy, covered in sweat and come, half out of his clothes.

Aaron's given up. He's flopped over the back of the sofa, arms hanging, breath hitching on every inhale. He's fucking perfect.

Robert helps him drop onto his back, stretches them both out along the length of the sofa. It's a tight fit and he doesn't even dare think about how they're going to clean this up but it's worth it to see Aaron's face again, finally.

Aaron hums, lashes fluttering. He smiles when Robert cards a hand through his sweaty hair, eyes blinking open.

“You still with me?” Robert asks, can feel that his own eyes have gone soft.

Aaron's mouth twitches. “Yeah, that was,” he blows out a breath.

“Yeah.”

And then they're just grinning at each other, giddy. Robert has to lean down to kiss soft lips, lets their noses nudge together.

“I feel like I've been mauled,” Aaron says, stretching out his knees.

“Sorry,” Robert says. He's not even a little bit sorry.

Aaron knocks his head against Robert's jaw. “Shut up. What brought that on then?'

Robert cuddles him closer. “I had a good day,” he says, like that explains anything. “And you've got a really nice arse,” he adds, because that actually does.

Aaron chuckles, runs his fingers up Robert's spine over the t shirt he's still wearing. “I need another a shower.”

“You really do,” they both stink.

“You coming with?”

Robert nods, eyes closed. “Yeah.”

It's a long time before either of them move.

 


End file.
